I See You
by storywriter30
Summary: And suddenly, it is the Fall of 2009 and he is seeing her for the first time again. All of her strength, all of her scars, all of their history, lay bare in front of him.
1. I See You

_The first time he sees her, they have been in Paris for four days._

Tony is sitting on a bench.

He is exhausted from the heat. He is exhausted from the travel. Tony is exhausted from the heartache and he is exhausted from the excitement.

Most of all – he is exhausted from the grief.

Tali is bent over just three feet in front of him, anxiously awaiting the next water spout to pop from the ground.

Western Europe is melting through another "record breaking" heat wave and so he and Tali have found themselves at a playground – just steps away from the Seine, sloshing around in the fountains.

It is clear that Tali is a child of the desert. Unfazed by the heat, she runs from spout to spout, blocking the spray with her body and then squealing in delight as it rains all around her.

He can't help but smile. Tali is the definition of light, purpose and joy. It's been almost two weeks since he first laid eyes on her and she is beginning to really feel like _his_ daughter.

They're similar – he and Tali – she's mischievous, but sensitive, funny, but wiser than a two year old should be.

He's getting use to the feeling of her on his hip – of her face pressed up against his neck.

It feels like it's he and Tali against the world. And he wishes it wasn't that way. He wishes his partner were here – now, the three of them against the world, that would be a force to be reckon with.

"Tali-too?" he beckons, "Are you thirsty?" Tony holds up his bottle of water and the bottle of juice he thought she might like. Could little kids get dehydrated? He wasn't all together certain. "Come here, munchkin," he continues, leaning forward and outstretching his arms.

She ambles towards him and climbs up on the bench – taking the water bottle from him with both hands and missing half her mouth with it. He can't imagine it'll take more than ten minutes for her already soaked shirt to dry.

It's when she leans against him and his oh so heavy eyes wander across the river that he notices the enormous camera lens peaking through the banisters on the opposite side of the Seine. Taking into account the angle and this distance, its trained right on them.

Instinctively, Tony wraps a protective arm around Tali and decides they have been at park long enough.

"What do you say we go take a nap?" he asks. He pulls her from the bench – her legs snaking around him like she was made to be there – gathers their bag and heads up the stairs to the street.

Scanning the area around them, he tries to pick out anything out of the ordinary. Between the children in the fountain, the teenagers sprawled out by the river and the old women meandering along the trees, he sees no one out of place.

He doesn't wait for the walk symbol and jogs across the street.

That's when he sees her, ducking into a cab, trying so hard not to look their way. She's unmistakable though – her hair is wild – her eyes are frantic.

She is so very _alive_.

Tony stops on the opposite side of the road and leans against the railing. He feels like he might pass out and so he holds on to Tali tighter.

"Right." He breathes as it all comes together for him. "Checking on you, baby girl." He kisses her head.

_The second time he sees her, she sees him too. _

Tony and Tali spend almost two months in Paris. He searches for more signs of Ziva but comes up short at every turn.

While he loves this city, at every turn he is reminded of _her_ and it breaks his heart. There is no way to settle here – no way to create any sense of normalcy for Tali and so he doesn't renew their month-to-month lease. He packs their bags and books them on a flight to New York.

Tali cries the whole flight back to the U.S.

Suddenly, he feels like he barely knows his little girl. He has spent the past ten weeks learning how to make her smile, what will upset her, when she'll calm down and suddenly, high above the Atlantic – all of that is washed is away.

Curled into his chest, somewhere approaching Iceland, she moans into his shirt. He rubs her back. "What's wrong, baby girl?" He's beginning to plead.

She shifts and balls up his shirt – mutters something in jumbled Hebrew. And it hits him – startling him much like patch of turbulence will in a few minutes time – she's Ziva's. Truly, she will always be Ziva's.

When they land at Newark, he is harried, but focused. He moves through the airport with laser like precision, Tali anchored to his hip – finally passed out from sheer exhaustion –, their carry on, on his shoulder and her stroller dragging behind him.

Dragging is the operative word. This is why Tony should have been a younger dad and at the realization, he scoffs at his younger self. Tony is the bare minimum type – he barely used the stroller in Paris and regretted lugging it across the Atlantic. When he was in a rush, Tali was on his hip. If he was taking his time, she meandered beside him – her tiny hand in his.

It's better when it's just him and his girl, but his shoulder and his back hold other opinions. He is no _thirty-something_. So they take the elevator down to baggage claim and he sets Tali down and she groans in protest. "Me too," he agrees.

The doors open and suddenly, _she_ is simply across the expansive hall.

Ziva.

It's late - there are few travelers around and she seems rooted to her spot. Ziva is wearing glasses – something he has never seen on her before and has only a backpack strapped to her back.

Her eyes meet his and the raging waters inside them instantly calm. For one brief second, he thinks everything will finally be okay.

Ziva shakes her head in one razor sharp motion and walks off.

Later, he'll have conflicting emotions. If only Tali hadn't been playing with the elevator buttons. If only she'd seen her mother and run after her screaming for her Ima. Maybe then they would have spoken.

On the other hand, he is so relieved. What if Tali had seen her – had watched her mother walk away.

Yet again.

Seeing her two months ago in Paris, that hurt him. It was a tease. This – this angers him. What in the fuck is she doing? To him – to Tali – to them?

_When they finally speak – it is violent. _

He is filled with rage for almost two years after their moment in the airport. He is, after all, a single father, raising a two, then three, now four year old with attachment issues.

He wonders where _those_ come from.

Tony can only leave Tali with Senior if he wants to avoid a full nuclear meltdown from his girl. The fear that rages within that child's heart is primal. She clings to Tony like he is her lifeline and he is.

Once upon a time, he believed Tali would always be irrevocably Ziva's and only barely his, but they've been through so much together. Most days, he thinks they share the same brain. He knows their heart yearns for the same thing.

They have gone through several nannies at this point – all lovely girls in their twenties who once upon a time, Tony would have made a pass at. Now, he just tries to convince them that his daughter does in fact like them and they should _please_ stay on.

It hasn't worked yet.

He has trouble blaming Tali for her issues. She is first and foremost, just a baby who was ripped from everything she knew and understood in what was – he can only assume – some elaborate charade. He is lucky that he has the flexibility to stay home with her and cater to her every need. Tony keeps waiting for the day that he feels like he has a handle on all of this. But it hasn't come yet.

Since returning from Europe, Tony has taken a position consulting for the NYPD. He does mostly high level anti terror and alliance building. It's lucrative enough and something he often does from their kitchen table.

Most weeks, Tali will have at least one minor to moderate freak out. She'll come from her room or the living room, looking to show him one of her latest creation and he'll be gone – usually in the bathroom – sometimes taking a call on their patio. The shrill of _Abba_ that comes from her lips brings him back to that night at Vance's house every time.

Senior suggests a child psychologist. Tony doesn't where they would begin.

So he simply curses Ziva. How could she do this to him? To _Tali_?

Tony gets the sense that she is watching them on more than one occasion. There is the time at the Children's Museum. The morning on the ferry. But it isn't until he and Senior have taken Tali to the Hamptons one late Summer weekend that everything reaches what he thought would be their final crescendo.

Tali scampers on the beach, bringing shells and rocks to Senior. He marvels at them and praises her acquisitions. Perhaps _grandfather_ was what the old man was always supposed to excel at. They climb the stairs back up to the boardwalk and Senior brings Tali over to a photo booth. He calls for Tony to join them, but Tony's laser focused on something – someone – and tells Senior he'll catch up with them.

He trails her to behind an ice cream truck. She's packing her giant camera back into her backpack. She doesn't see him coming and that should have been his first clue that things have changed, but he's too angry.

He grabs her by the elbow and jerks her towards him.

"That's enough," he growls

"Tony!" She stammers.

"No -" he cuts her off and backs her into the truck. "I don't know what the fuck is going on with you but it needs to stop. What is this the eighth – ninth, time you've followed us?"

"Twelfth" she corrects.

He snaps. "What the fuck, Ziva," He is so raw and so angry. "You're supposed to be _dead_ or at least in some type of underground martyr monastery for Ex-Mossad Officers who refuse to allow themselves and _everyone_ around them to be happy."

Her eyes narrow and she shakes her head at him – disgusted. "You think I chose this?"

"Well I sure as hell didn't."

"Someone is trying to kill me."

"I'm sure they are," he laughs. "Someone's been trying to kill me too, all these years, Ziva. It's _you_. Are you just trying to see how much whiplash a guy can take before his neck snaps?"

"I am just checking on Tali." Her voice is flat. She holds steady at him before looking down at the ground.

"She doesn't need to be checked on," he replies. And suddenly, he is even more angry. "She _needed_ to not be involved in whatever this shit is."

Ziva bites her lip. "Tony –." Her whole body convulses and a single tear slips down her face. "I would do anything to have her out of this – I – I mean – that is why she is with you." Her voice falters on the last line.

Tony steps back – he takes a deep breath and rubs his forehead.

He _hates_ when she cracks. Hard, focused, calculated Ziva he can be pissed at. She gets under his skin – she walls him off so he has no need to be gentle with her. Raw Ziva, emotional Ziva – open Ziva – he doesn't know how to be mad at her. She trusts him and he's always just wanted to protect her.

"Please," he whispers, "Please tell me what's going on."

"I can't." She shakes her head and steps towards him. She runs a hand down his shoulder and he flinches. "Tony, you must stay out of my danger. Who else will protect her if you cannot?" She reaches his hand

"How can I protect her if I can't protect her mother?"

"Knowing she is safe – it – it gives me peace. It gives me hope that I can conquer this and come home to you two." She lets go of his hand and shakes her head. "If you'll have me."

Tony lets out a sad – sardonic laugh – one that only Ziva can ever pull from him. He cups her cheek and she leans in to him. "We need you," he says. "We love you. So much, Ziva."

"I know." She breathers. "Tony, I will spend the rest of our lives making this up to you."

He leans in and kisses her – once on the cheek and then on her lips. He knew he had been suffocating without her all these years, but he didn't know what it would feel like when he could actually breathe her in again. Ziva leans into him and a small sob escapes her lips as they move against his.

Tony breaks their kiss and pulls her head to his chest. "I want to go with you." He growls.

"Me too."

"But I can't," he says. "I don't think she – " Tony hesitates. In just moments, he has gone from flamingly angry with her to not wanting to let her know about their daughter's attachment issues for fear it'll upset her too much. "Tali needs me."

She nods against him. "She does." Ziva pushes away from his chest to look him square in the eyes. "I am almost done," she says. "The less you know – the better. Please just … lay low with her."

Ziva picks up her backpack and slings it over her shoulder. "Thank you, Tony."

"Ziva," he grabs her arm. "Every time you walk away – it takes a lifetime to see you again."

She smiles sadly. "My heart, Tony, is yours." She touches his chest. "And she is my soul."


	2. I Know You

**Part II: I Know You**

Tony takes some time before returning to Senior and Tali. He needs to clear his head, to get his footing, to put his poker face back on.

He knew she was alive. He did. He had seen her in Paris. He had seen her in Newark. But holding her – feeling her – he ached.

Senior and Tali have left the pier. He finds then down the road at some hole in the wall ice cream store. Sitting side by side on a picnic bench, Senior and Tali are coloring together and chatting away.

He pauses before joining them – the weight of what just happened, what is happening and what will happen – overwhelming him.

Ziva was right. She usually is. _Tali needs him_ – but she needs him in a way he hasn't yet been able to provide for her. These past three years, he's felt like he's been in limbo – never knowing what he should commit their future to look like. But if Ziva's getting her end in order then he'll get his.

* * *

"Tali, can you come here?" Tony calls. It's a Sunday morning – only a couple of weeks after he spoke with Ziva. He's been doing his research and he's ready to start tackling this issue with Tali.

"I'm reading to Kalev." She calls back. "Will you help?"

"Not right now, lovie. I need you to come here." He is sprawled out on the living room carpet, surrounded by papers and markers.

It takes a minute but Tali soon trudges in, Kalev in one arm, a book in the other. "I want to read the persisted book." She groans.

"I love that book," Tony says, taking the Chelsea Clinton book that Bishop had sent for Tali's recent fifth birthday. "I have a question for you, though." He pats the rug besides him and she sinks down.

"You know how you get upset when you're not with me or Gramps?" He asks.

"Where are you going?" Tali asks – the pitch of her voice raising to a panic.

"No where, Tali." He reassures. "I'm asking you why you get so upset when Alicia or Casey hang out with you."

"I don't know." She shrugs.

Tony picks up a marker and starts drawing on the paper. "What's your favorite thing to do?" he asks.

"I like to play soccer with you at the park." She says.

"Yeah?" his eyes light up, "Me too. We have a lot of fun. You're so quick!" He starts to draw a soccer ball – one eye watching as she assesses him. "Can you draw me something you don't like?"

She thinks for a moment and then flops onto her stomach and begins drawing. Tony gives it a minute or two – hoping the research he did on how to help little kids express trauma isn't crashing and burning.

Tali draws a girl who is likely herself and then proceeds to surround her with other faceless forms.

"What's that?" he asks – wondering if maybe, just maybe, he is in over his head.

"Strangers," she says. "People who take me places."

"Where do they take you?" he asks.

She shrugs. "Away." She adds a couple of trees and some flowers.

"Away from me or away from Ima?"

"Ima."

"Do you miss Ima?" he asks. He knows the answer – it's the same for both of them.

She nods.

"Are you worried that me and Gramps are going to go away like Ima?"

She nods again, lip between her teeth.

He purses his lips and takes the marker from her. "Come here," he says.

Pushing himself off the ground, he picks her up and settles them on the couch – Tali on his knee. "Tali," he begins, gently. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. She looks so much like her mother when she worries. "Ima had to go away because she had to fix some things before she could be with you again. She's working really hard to come back, but it's been a long time, right and it could still be a long time." He rubs her back. "Do you understand that?"

"What is she fixing?" Tali asks.

"Well, she had a couple jobs before you were born and she didn't get to finish them so when you were old enough she wanted you to live with me until she could finish them."

She's quiet for a minute before reaching down and picking Kalev off the ground. "Do you have to go away too?" She asks, rubbing Kalev's ear.

"No," he shakes his head. "My job right now is to be here with you. That's Gramps' job, too."

"When Ima comes back – are you going to leave then?"

"No." He assures even though he hasn't given much though to who will live where when (and if, because her mother is anything if not unpredictable) Ziva returns. "We're staying right here. Maybe Ima will live with us – maybe down the street. I'm not sure, Tali-too." One thing was for sure – he wasn't living anywhere but under the same roof as Tali until the day she turned eighteen – longer, if she'd let him.

"Ima should live here." Tali agreed. "We could read to her."

"I think she'd like that," Tony agreed. "We would, too, huh?

* * *

Monday morning, Tony joins a remote briefing on the coordination of a white supremacist group. He enjoys consulting for the NYPD – it keeps his brain attractive, makes him feel useful and he still gets to work for the greater good. But it's not the same. Part of him is glad that it's other people knocking down door, pulling out weapons and tackling suspects to the ground. The other part of him misses the beat. He's never really been one for the sidelines

Alicia, a sophomore from St. Joseph's – a college just down the street is entertaining Tali in her room.

Tali goes to half day pre-school on Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Fridays. Alicia spends the day with her on Mondays and Thursdays with her. He can't leave the apartment, but he can sit and get some work done. The other afternoons Casey – another student from St. Joseph's comes over with some backup from Senior. It's on these days that Tony can sneak out for a bit. They're working up to more – with everyone helping Tali work through her fear of repeat abandonment. Tony always checks in when he's out and he always returns. He promises her that'll never change.

Today, Tony's only commitment is this morning's briefing so once it's over, Alicia helps him get Tali out the door; they drive her back to her dorm and then head south.

"We're going on adventure," he tells Tali.

She squeals in delight. "Let's go! Let's go!"

It's close to dinnertime when they arrive in Baltimore. Tony takes a very hungry Tali to Max's Taphouse. It was one of his favorite spots when he worked in Baltimore. It's grubby enough to feel authentic, but modern and clean enough for him to take his daughter too. He feels like he's lived a lifetime since he watched every Final Four game at that old wood bar. Looking at his dinner date, he's not sure he would want to go back.

Later, he carries her on his hip as they walk over to the historic Fells Point neighborhood with it's cobblestone streets and gas burning lamps. He turns up South Bond Street and sees the object of their search.

"Jay," he calls to the man leaning against his car outside of number 852. "Thanks so much for meeting me."

Jay Corcoran spent four years at the Baltimore PD before a close call with a bullet and his ear sent him on a career change. Now, he rehabs historic homes with his wife Marie.

Jay pushes off the car and pulls him into a hug. "Dude, _anything_ for you," he turns to Tali. "Is this the famous Princess Tali," he asks.

Tali giggles, "I'm not a Princess."

"They're ninja-queens in our house," Tony corrects.

"My apologies," Jay says. "Should we go in?"

Jay opens the door and leads Tony and Tali into the old brick row house. It has been taken completely down to the studs – the floor reduced to plywood and dust, but Tony is enamored by the possibilities of it all. With walls of exposed brick and low ceilings, Tony feels like he's stepped back into colonial Baltimore. They walk through what could the living room and mull around the kitchen.

"You think it has potential?" he asks Jay.

Jay's eyes go wide. "Oh yeah. This price. This market. This location. These studs are pristine." Jay runs his hands along a low beam. "And it's not like you're 6'6."

"What do you think, Tali?" He asks. He brings her over to the window. "Do you want to live here? We could play in the courtyard. We could walk to the water."

* * *

"Why did you live so far away from us?" The question comes out of left field as he is pulling the braids out of Tali's hair before bed one night later that week.

Tony blows out a sigh. "From you and Ima?"

"When I was a baby." She nods.

_I didn't know you existed. Your mother is trying to kill me._ "It's complicated." He settles on.

She turns around and pouts and he kisses the side of her head. "It's time for bed, lovie. We can talk more later." He pulls the covers down from her bed and tucks her in.

Sitting on the side of her bed, his hand on her knee, he reaches over and rubs her cheek. "You know how much I love you, right?"

"Bigger than the sky," she smiles. It is their nightly routine.

"That's right," he says. "And how much does Ima love you?"

"Brighter than the sun."

"Night, _Tali-too_." He kisses her forehead and then shuts her in her room. Tony sighs as he heads back into the kitchen. The time between Tali's bedtime and his eventual shuteye are always the hardest parts of the day for him. He's lonely – aimless – anxious.

Sometimes he has a beer. Sometimes half a bottle of wine. Other times he just sits and stares off into space.

He picks up his phone – maybe he'll call McGee and see how the family is. Hell, maybe he'll even check-in on Bishop. She's always nice enough to check-in on him. But he has a voicemail from Gibbs and that intrigues him.

"_Tony…ah… we need to talk. Call me." _

Tony holds the phone tight in his hand before letting it all click together.

And it looks like Ziva has made contact with Gibbs.

Because Gibbs still rarely calls him Tony and he never needs to talk.

Tony returns Gibbs' call once on Wednesday and then again on Friday, but the man never picks up and never calls him back.

He thinks about shooting McGee or Palmer a text, but part of him also hears Ziva in his head – _lay low with her_ – and so he does.

He picks Tali up early from pre-school on Friday and they head home. They build a fort in the living room and he introduces her to Mary Poppins. He wants to say, _see babysitters can be fun_, but he hopes the sublime message just does the trick.

It's almost midnight when the text comes. Tali has been asleep in his king size bed, curled into his side for hours. They'd watched both Mary Poppins, eaten Chicken Noodle soup, baked brownies and began the Sound of Music. His little girl's eyes had lit up when he told her it was Ima's favorite. She got even more excited when she found out he could sing her every song.

He'd thought about putting her to bed when her eyes began to flutter and the clock inched towards eight, but the silence from his old team was beginning to get to him and so he liked the idea of his hand on her. Tony rubbed circles on her back as she slowly fell asleep and relished the gentle rhythm of her breathing against him.

He wouldn't lose this. No matter how things panned out with him and Ziva. He wasn't losing Tali. He'd lost time with her already and he wasn't going to be a party to losing anymore. He and Ziva would just have to figure that out.

He was prepared for her to be protective – _possessive_ even. Ziva had lost so much time with their daughter, but it wasn't like those first few months anymore. Then, she had felt like someone he was watching over – a temporary guardian of sorts, but not anymore. He was her Dad.

There's a difference between a _father_ and a _dad_ and Tony was Tali's Dad. He'd learned to braid her hair; he took her to the pediatrician; he picked out her clothes (and boy did that little girl have style); he put her in soccer; he watched her make friends. Tony was the one she always turned back to see – to make sure he was still there. And no matter what – he wasn't changing any of that – no matter what Ziva felt. When she turned, he'd be there.

He was Tali's dad.

His phone lights up and it's a long international number he doesn't recognize. _Has Gibbs called_?

He narrows his eyes – thinks about asking who the hell this is before simply responding, _No_.

Another text follows almost instantaneously. _It is over. All of it_.

The physiological responses that his body has to those six words are something he has never before experienced.

His stomach drops.

His vision blurs and his heart rate spikes.

This is it. Ziva is going to kill him via a heart attack. Right here and right now.

And then his phone vibrates. He carefully extricates himself from Tali and he wills her not to stir. He pads out of the room and slides the door shut, leaving just a crack for him to watch her through.

"Yes," he answers, just before the line cuts to voicemail.

"_Tony_," she breathes, ragged and fraught with emotion. "May I come home?"

* * *

**A/N: I am absolutely floored to be writing for you all again. More to come. **


	3. I Feel You

He had written this moment over and over in his head since that afternoon on the pier.

_How would she sound? _

_How would he feel?_

_Where would he be? _

_What would he say? _

_What would she want?_

But when he lives it – it's so much different than he imagined. So much easier.

"_Tony_," she breathes and it is ragged and tired and… timid _and_ scared. "May I come home?"

He let's out a breath that he knows he's been holding for years and decides to just let the words flow. "Ziva," he chuckles, "You never had to ask."

"Well," she says. "Now I am."

"The answer is… _please do_."

Now it's her turn to breathe the sigh of relief. "I realize…that it is late and you have a life."

"Are you outside?" He narrows his eyes, steps away from the bedroom and moves toward the front door.

"No, no." And he can picture her waving her hands dismissively and just a little bit frantically. "I called you as soon as I could… I am driving through DC now. It will be a couple of hours until I am in New York."

"Wow," he says, "Advance warning – so polite."

His joke falls on deaf ears and he should have read her better. She seemed _off_ at the pier and she seems even more _off_ now. "Sorry," he says.

There is a beat or two of silence and he hopes he hasn't royally fucked this whole thing up that quickly.

"So…" She broaches, "May I see her… tomorrow, maybe?"

"Ziva, you can come right here." Because maybe _he_ doesn't want to wait to see _her_ until tomorrow – but sure, he'll justify with Tali's affinity for the early morning hours. "I may have taught her the art of sleeping in, but it doesn't exactly come natural to her. She'd be happy to be woken up by six. In the meantime, we could… catch up." And Tony could find out just where her head was at.

"Well… that would… be _nice_. I will … _see you then_."

And suddenly, it is the Fall of 2009 and he is seeing her for the first time again. All of her strength, all of her scars, all of their history, lay bare in front of him.

"_I will be right here_."

* * *

When he hangs up, he feels like the weight of two thousands unsolved case files have been lifted from his chest and yet, at the same time, he's got the pressure of a transnational terror hunt on his shoulders.

He's not sure which is preferable.

He paces the living room for a while – thinking about all of the different things he wants to ask her – all the things he wants to tell her. He's not mad anymore – no, all he had to do was watch her break on the pier for that to dissipate. She's battling more _Ziva demons_ now than she was when he left her on the tarmac – a decision he will regret for the rest of his days. So he can't add to that.

Tony isn't mad at her anymore – but he _is_ weary of her.

He's weary of how fast he'll fall back for her – not that he has ever fallen out for her. But he's weary of what being around her will do to his heart.

It's about more than just him, now and he's worried about how his emotions will affect Tali. He's worried about what the reappearance of her mother will do to Tali's sense of stability.

It's always been complicated between he and Ziva. And now … now all of that seems like child's play compared to where they are now.

He peaks back into the bedroom, Tali has migrated to the middle of the bed – her arms and legs spread wide, the blanket curled around her ankles. She's waking up into a whole new world tomorrow. One he hopes will provide her with double the love, double the care, twice fun and much more wisdom. But it's also a hell of a lot more complicated than this one and he's just not sure what it will look like.

Tony picks up his phone and fires a text to McGee. _We have a lot to talk about, huh? _He waits a few moments, but his friend never responds. And then Tony remembers just how late it is and so he puts his phone down and resigns himself to a few more hours of waiting.

He spends the middle of the night pacing from room to room, peaking out the windows and checking in on Tali. Part of him wishes she would need him. Part of him is thankful he doesn't have to put on a show for her.

Eventually, he sinks into the couch and turns Sportscenter on the TV. He's not sure when, but at some point, he sleeps for just a little while.

* * *

When Tony wakes, it is close to four in the morning and he wonders if maybe he hallucinated the call from Ziva because isn't she supposed to be here by now? A quick peak into his room tells him that at the very least, she did not slip in while he was sleeping and sneak out with Tali.

He sits on the edge of the bed for a while, his hand resting on her little feet. His eyes admiring the loose brown curls that fan her face. She is truly half him and half her and he had no idea something so beautiful could exist.

And then his phone lights up on the bedside table.

_I am outside_, she says.

Tony runs his hands through his hair and heads to his front door. Everything begins and ends now. He looks in the peephole and then pulls the frame open – slowly.

Ziva looks five years older than he remembers and yet, not a day over the twenty-three she was when they first met. The juxtopoisition of it all takes his breath away.

He's nervous, but she looks downright terrified and so he falls back into the banter that used to come so easy to them. "What'd you take a two hour detour?" he asks.

She shakes her head and then rethinks and nods. "I had to find New York's twenty-four hour bagel place." She holds up the bag in her hand and shrugs. "I did not want to show up empty handed."

He smiles, "How polite," and takes the bag from her. Tony shakes his head and then pulls her in the door and into a hug. It's forceful and awkward, but within half a second they grip each other like the lifelines they have always been. Tony wraps his arms around her shoulders as her head boroughs into his neck. "You made it," he whispers.

She nods and steps back. "I … don't know how." She shakes her head. "And I want to sit and talk – really I do. But –"

"You need a peak," he finishes.

She nods. She drops a large duffle bag on the ground and looks at him expectantly.

Tony takes her hand and with one squeeze pulls her down the hallway to his bedroom. "She doesn't usually sleep in my bed," he explains. "It's just… been a weird couple of days." He shrugs and opens the door.

Ziva steps in front of him and through the door. She stares at the little girl who is not nearly as little as she was when she last saw her. She no longer has a round a chubby baby face, but instead the oval toned shape of a growing child. Her legs are long and lean, her curls wild and strewn across her face.

Tali is still stretched across the middle of the bed and as she moves in her sleep, Ziva's breath hitches in her throat and Tony watches as tears stream down her face. It was as if she didn't believe she was real until she moved.

"Hey, hey," he whispers, a hand coming to rest on the small of her back. "You did it. You're here. She's here. It's okay."

Ziva nods and turns into him. Tony opens his arms and she shudders before falling into him. "Come here," he whispers.

Tony guides her out of the doorway and pulls the door shut behind him. He holds her head against his chest. "We're all going to be fine."

Ziva takes a shaky breath, lifts her head from his chest and steps back from him. "I don't know how to begin to explain the last five years to you."

"Come sit down," He says. Tony leads her to the couch and carefully takes up a seat next to her as she sinks into the corner.

"I am so sorry," she says. "I'm sure you are still furious and it is hard to be furious with a puddle of tears."

"I got that out of my system," he explains.

She turns to him with a start and an incredulity that few can turn his way, "_How_?" she asks.

"We've always been on the same team," he shrugs. And he wants to say more – to explain that it's because he knows her; he knows her like the back of his hand and he loves her and he loves their daughter and he just wants them to be together. But the early morning light is far too low in the sky for that.

Ziva holds her hands over her eyes and shakes her head. "She is _so_ big." And she is nearly beside herself at the fact.

"Yeah, well, you know … I make sure she eats her vegetables."

She looks at him – the weight of all her guilt boring into his soul. "And much more, I'm sure."

He nods. "She's the best thing that's ever happened to me. Every day – I just try to do what's best for her."

"And you have."

"So have you." He counters.

"I don't know," she sighs and she looks so defeated by herself. "I made the wrong decisions before she was even born."

"Ziva, we don't have to do this now." He says.

Ziva smiles at him – sad and full of appreciation. She shakes her head. "If she were not here, I don't think I would have had the courage to face you."

"Come on, Ziva." He puts a hand on her knee. "You've never been afraid of me."

"I am not the me that you knew." And the tears begin to well in her eyes again.

He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. He hates this. Broken Ziva has always torn him apart. He's never been able to stand for that.

"You look like you." He says quietly – slowly. "You sound like _my_ _Ziva_. You feel like her." And his voice is so tender, so caring, so raw and his touch is so gentle on the ends of her curls that he unlocks something within her. It's an old piece of herself.

She turns to him, her eyes glittering and he feels a little bit of _pah_ enter the room. "When she was born, it was like a whole other aspect of myself was in this tiny little person and all I wanted to do was protect her, to love her, to show her beauty I never knew. And then Sahar came on my radar and I… knew I could not even come close to risking her. But… since she's been gone – a part of me has been gone too."

Tony rubs a hand down her back. "Tell me who Sahar is."

"_Was_." Ziva corrects.

And so she launches into an account of what the last three years of her life have entailed. She tells him about Sahar's connection to Ari and the blame she placed on her. Tears well in her eyes as she explains how she realized she was going to have to take this head on if she wanted to ever have a life that was safe.

His arm migrates to her waist and he anchors her as she takes him through her time in Lebanon, the month she spent in Syria, and the time she has been stateside. She tells his how she realized Sahar was tracking Gibbs and the decision she made to come from the shadows and end this once and for all.

"How was seeing Gibbs?" he asks.

"It was...raw," she says. "Bittersweet. But I was honest."

She tells him how the week and a half she spent with Gibbs unearthed some of her most painful memories, fears and insecurities. And while she has forgiven him - because he is the only stable and loving father figure that she has - the pain will always remain. She counted on him - she depended on his help and the moment she needed him most - he didn't come.

"I knew I was supposed to be with you," he growls, his grip on her waist tightening. "I felt it on a molecular level."

"And you _were_ with me," She says. "You were with the part of my heart that is still whole and pure. You two… you're the only things that have kept me going. Kept me true to some tiny semblance of who I was – especially after I saw you on Long Island."

"I'm sorry about that," he says. "I came off… strong."

"It was justified," She said. "And you were… fair."

"She's been through so much." He explains. "And I … I didn't know I could love like I love her."

"I knew you would protect her at all costs," she says. "Even from me and that gave me peace."

"I don't need to protect her from you."

She nods. "Thank you."

"But I do have to say one thing and I … I can't apologize for it." He takes a deep breath and goes silent for a minute. If he doesn't say this now, he'll never say it.

"I am her Dad, Ziva and that little girl – she means everything to me so I won't lose another minute with her. And I don't want you to either, but as long as there is air in my lungs, so help me God, I will see her everyday."

Ziva nods and places a hand on his knee. "Somehow – you have forgiven me for the first two years of her life and… for that… I am sorry and thank you will never be enough, but I promise I would never dream of … separating you two again." She shakes her head. "She is more yours than mine now."

"She's ours, Ziva."

She reaches up and runs her fingers down his cheek. "There have been many nights… especially recently – after our conversation when I have wondered why I was given the gift of you."

Tony cups her hand, holding it against his cheek. "Funny," he says. "I spend most nights wondering how I ever let you go."

"I made you." She offers.

"You did." He acknowledges.

"I have fallen so much further, Tony. I barely know how to do anything but run and fight."

"Well lucky for you, Tali loves to run." He chuckles, "God, Ziva, she has so much energy. And… you know, I could never turn down the chance to fight alongside you."

Ziva smiles and this time, he thinks it travels all the way to her eyes. "McGee said something similar to me the other day."

And so they spend a little bit of time just talking about the easy things of the last couple days. Like the way McGee looked at her as they were taking Sahar down and how easy it felt to work next to him. She spoke of how impressed she was by Ellie and about what she observed between her and Nick.

And as the clock approaches six, Tony pushes himself off of the couch. "I am going to go wake her up." He says.

And all of a sudden, Ziva is on edge. "Yes," she startles. "Okay." She shoots off the couch and brushes down her pants. Ziva tucks a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Relax," he smiles as he leaves her and heads down the hall.

* * *

Tony shuts the door behind him and sinks down into the bed. His mask falls and he takes just a second for himself.

Tony rubs his forehead. No sleep and so much to process and yet things were beginning to feel like they made sense again.

He and Ziva being honest. He and Ziva being vulnerable. He and Ziva just being together. Bringing Tali in was the only natural next step.

"Hey, Tali-too," he says. He rubs a hand on her back. "Tali-too." He sings.

She moans and rolls over to face him.

"There's someone here to see you," he tells her.

She groans and closes her eyes again. She wasn't a morning person and that was all his genes.

"Tali," he runs his hand through her hair. "How about I carry you?"

She nods and so he scoops her up. Her legs lock around his waist and her head rests on his shoulder just like she did when he first met her – when he had no idea who she was or who he was as a father let alone a Dad.

"Tired," she mumbles into his shirt.

He carries her out of the room and whispers in her ear. "I know – me too, but Ima is here. Do you remember her?"

And with that, Tali's head whips up from his shoulder and she twists in his arms to find Ziva on the edge of the couch nearly losing herself in anticipation.

"Tali," Ziva gasps as she springs up from the couch. She stops mere centimeters from them. "Ahuvi," she breathes. Her hand ghosting down Tali's back.

Tali, still barely awake and a little bit overwhelmed, stares at her before laying her head back on Tony's shoulder. She closes her eyes.

"You know Ima, Tali." He rubs his hand down her back before reaching for Ziva. Both of his girls are scared and he'll be dammed if he lets them fall while they are in reach.

"My ladies," he says, "Come sit with me."

Tony pulls Ziva down to the couch and settles Tali between them, his hand still tightly grasping Ziva's behind Tali's shoulder. He uses his free hand to tuck a piece of curly hair behind Tali's ear. "It's a little confusing to wake up and have Ima here, huh?"

The five year old doesn't say anything.

"Ima called me after you fell asleep last night. She said she was done with her project and she missed you so much, she drove all night to see you."

Ziva pulls her hand from Tony's – a feet he was hoping she would not accomplished and slips to the floor. Kneeling before Tali, she places her hands on the girl's shoulders. "I am so sorry I had to go away for so long, my love." She runs her hand down Tali's arm and takes her hand. "I know your father has taken the best care of you and if you'll let me, I would like to be with you again."

Tali thinks for a moment. "I don't want to leave Abba." she shrugs, her eyes trained on the carpet before them.

"No, no," Ziva shakes her head. "I don't want you to leave Abba either." She looks at Tony."I want us… to _all_ be together." And her voice cracks.

"That could be fun, huh _Tali-too_?" Tony asks, his eyes not wavering from Ziva's.

The little girl nods.

She looks up at her mother - a woman she barely knows from real life - a woman she's seen in pictures every day. The photo that she brought to Tony - he and Ziva on the moped in Paris - it lives on her nightstand. She looks at it everyday - much the same way she does with her favorite characters in her favorite books and movies and yet, here she is, her Ima, right before her.

Tali's eyes are wide - some combination of intrigue and fascination playing across her face. She is not as overwhelmed as she was moments ago. "Where did you drive from?" she asks.

Ziva smiles, sensing the shift. "I drove from Washington." She taps Tali's nose. "I was with your Grandpa Gibbs, your Uncle Tim and… Eleanor… do you know Eleanor and Nicholas?"

"We don't know Nick – we've heard about him," Tony chimes in. "But we love Auntie Ellie, right Tali?"

Tali bounces. "She has friends in New York and she always comes by to play when she's here."

"She seems very nice," Ziva hums. "And I think her partner Nicholas would agree."

"Yeah, McGee has told me about those two," Tony notes before turning his attention back to Tali. "Tali," He continues. "Ima brought us bagels. Do you want to go have some?"

She nods.

"Why don't you show her the kitchen?"

Ziva holds out her hand and sends a grateful smile to Tony as the little girl takes it and leads her into the kitchen. _Thank you,_ she mouths.

"This is where Abba is chef," Tali explains.

"Is it?" Ziva questions.

Tali nods. "We have a cooking show. It's very famous."

"I am sure." Ziva watches as Tali climbs up onto the tall chair and taps the one next to her. "_Ima_," she says, "You sit here."


End file.
